


Bluebeard's last wife

by viflow



Series: Him and I [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV), hannigram - Fandom
Genre: And Bedelia is a jealous bitch, Angst, Blow Job, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal S03e01 canon diverge, Hannibal devours Will, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Bedelia, Pining Hannibal Lecter, S03e06 Fix-it, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, at last
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:48:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26038960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viflow/pseuds/viflow
Summary: But now, she saw the moment that iron control broke. It was like a dam bursting, immeasurable weight flooding past the barriers, unstoppable in its momentum, carrying everything on that first, immense wave the second Hannibal bashed Anthony Dimmond's head.The man who so much resembled Hannibal’s beloved adversary.
Relationships: Bedelia Du Maurier/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Him and I [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945432
Comments: 41
Kudos: 396





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok. I just recently started to watch Hannibal, managing to make me a total Hannigram shipping mess, and this scene between Bedelia and Hannibal made me intrigued and just soooo much wanted to write a fic where Bedelia realized how much Will really meant to Hannibal. So, in order to deliver that I alternated canon a bit to my purpose.

Hannibal was looking for trouble. He usually was. But recently it seemed as he gave up all his person suits and simply gave in to his pinning. Because despite all her deep and excessive knowledge in the psychiatry field, Bedelia couldn’t find a word more accurate to describe Hannibal’s behaviour and feelings over the last couple of months, than pining.

Unbelievable as it was, still, Hannibal was pining.

Pining for _his_ Will.

In a person like Hannibal- who wasn’t even human, at least not in the traditional sense of the word- wasn’t easy to find anything even faintly resembling genuine emotion.

But then, looking was half the fun, and also the reason that made Bedelia intrigued enough in her decision to accompany Hannibal to Italy.

But now, she saw the moment that iron control broke. It was like a dam bursting, immeasurable weight flooding past the barriers, unstoppable in its momentum, carrying everything on that first, immense wave the second Hannibal bashed Anthony Dimmond's head.

The man who so much resembled Hannibal’s beloved adversary.

The one who got away before, and didn't end up on their dining table, simply because of that peculiar resemblance.

For the first time ever in their acquaintance, Hannibal’s hand trembled, his face craked, just for an instant, but still enough for Bedelia to see the sheer terror beneath that stoic face as Hannibal stood frozen in place, control clearly shredded by devastated anguish.

And through wide opened eyes and hammering heartbeats, she watched that emotionless, aristocratic face harden when temper and fury--unexpected, hot and ready--settled over Hannibal features like a second skin, stripping away every layer of the life long established civilized veneer.

And when Hannibal finally lifted his head and his dangerous, savage mood showed clearly in his bottomless, dark eyes and in the cold set of those sensuous mouth that gave her so much exquisite pleasure before, Bedelia knew she’d just made a grievous mistake.

In that instant Hannibal was a beast, a feral monster- in his grief- revealed.

Bedelia's heart stopped. And when Hannibal closed the distance between them in that graceful, soundless, predatory way of his, well, since she was actually already frozen, her breathing just stopped all together. For a long second, she just stood there and stared in bewilderment and horror at the not quite man, not quite monster’s face.

Every muscle of the beast's body was tensed for the hunt. Craving flesh, craving blood. Even as he calmly asked.

‘’Observe or participate?

‘’What?’’ Bedelia sucked in a deep, shuddering breath, as everything inside her rattled into pieces, squeezing the air out of her chest.

Folding his coat, Hannibal placed it on a chair, easy and steady. ‘’Are you in this very moment observing or participating?’’ He asked, with a touch of impatience and harsness now to his always-always smooth, even tone.

‘’Observing.’’

‘’You say you're observing, but this... This is participation, Bedelia.’’ Hannibal declaired, stepping even closer. Slowly, gracefully, eyes cold and lethal, a predator stalking his quarry. ‘’Did you know what he would do?’’ He asked annoyingly calm while Bedelia’s nerves were jumping inside her veins like a scarred hummingbird, and her mind was shouting at her to run before the beast pounced. ‘’I would prefer you answer honestly.’’ Hannibal claimed, eyes holding hers, allowing no escape.

Gulping hard, ‘’I was curious.’’ Bedelia answered, knowing how maddeningly, inexplicably intelligent and preceptive Hannibal was, she didn’t have other choice but to tell the truth.

‘’You were curious what would happen.’’ Hannibal stated, unfortunately, correctly, yet again. ‘’You were curious what Mr Dimmond would do. What I would do.’’ He said, eyes cold, expression faintly intrigued, the words, ‘what I’d do to the man who so much resembled the one I want,' not said, but hanging heavy in the air, in the miniscule, helpless tic in the monster’s lids over blank, freezing eyes. ‘’Did you anticipate our thoughts? Counter-thoughts? Rationalisations?’’

‘’Yes.’’ Bedelia muttered, her chest a tight, throbbing mess.

‘’Is this what you expected?’’ Hannibal asked with a dangerous flash in his dark, lethal eyes. Fierce enough to steal Bedelia's breath from her throat again and make her stomach muscles quiver. Then self-preservation, frustration and pride kicked in enough to gave her a burst to answer.

Swallowing hard, ‘’Yes.’’ she replied.

In the next moment Hannibal stepped toward Antony and broke his neck with a loud, sickening, terrifying crack, making Bedelia gasp out loud from shock. Then stepping over the man’s still convulsing body, Hannibal walked toward her again as nonchalantly like he’s just made something as domestic as switching on the light in the room.

Stopping before her again within a reach of those strong, lethal arms. ‘’That's participation.’’ Hannibal declared matter of fact. And then, surprisingly, there was a ghost of a smile as the dark, murderous look slowly gave way to something lighter and, dare she say, _almost_ affectionate. ‘’What have you gotten yourself into, Bedelia?’’ Hannibal asked soft, mouth indulgently quirking up before- ever the gentlemen- he inquired. ‘’Shall I hang up your coat?’’

But Bedelia was not fooled for even half a second. She saw the sharp, deadly fangs hidden under that benelovent smile, the still present ferine hurt, rage and quiet threat burried under polite words. And in that moment Bedelia realized that despite all her education, experiment, natural intelligence and extraordinary insight into the working of human’s minds--in order for her to survive-- she’d need to gather all her cunning strategy and more-- to prevent Hannibal’s union with Will Graham.


	2. Chapter 2

Days pass: three, four, five, six, after Hannibal disappeared with Antony’s body. On day seven he comes back, brooding and serene.

With a strange tightness in her chest, Bedelia skips and drinks through most of their meals in solidarity in her room, trying to avoid Hannibal and the annoying emotions breaking havoc inside her body and mind.

On day eighth, when Hannibal plays a sad, sorrowful, longing accord, Bedelia comes forward, not being able to take it anymore.

Her head is pounding from previous days exscessive drinking, still she takes another sip from the overpriced vine in her glass. Leaning her back against the doorframe, with thinning patience, she's waiting for Hannibal to finally aknowledge her presence. When seconds pass and he still doesn’t seem to bother to come out from whatever infatuated memory he’s lost at the moment, ‘’Was it good to see him?’’ Bedelia asks with a surprising, mounting irritation, a tension headache squeezing the base of her skull.

‘’It was nice.’’ Hannibal answers, eyes are staring off into distance. There’s a pause, then he says, with that far away haze still coating his gaze. ‘’Among other things.’’

Bedelia waits and waits and waits, but after longs seconds while Hannibal-- the two legs walking codex of proper etiquette-- seems still unbothered with the basest of courtesy of looking at her, Bedelia feels her irritation just reaching a new level. And just when she opens her mouth to say something to navigate Hannibal away from _that_ dangerous path—

’’He knew where to look for me.’’ Hannibal announces proud and loud, his hand dropping to his lap with a helpless gesture.

Sighing, Bedelia pushes herself of the door and walks slowly towards Hannibal, placing herself directly in his sight. But Hannibal is yet to give her a glance, and Bedelia looks at him— really looks at him.

There’s an unusual softness to his hard, cutting features, a gentle upward curl to his mouth, a besotted look in his usually cold, emotionless eyes, so hopeful and bright, that something cold and tight starts to uncurl under Bedelia's ribs and her throat feels like shards of glass scratching it.

She’s a psychiatrist, an educated woman, that’s it, so no matter how much she wants to deny it… She knows what it is.

She just doesn't know how in the Hell she’s come to feel this.

And she knows she must double her efforts in her try to plant and sow the seeds of doubt in Hannibal’s mind; about the genuineness and real means behind his unexpected and deep, seemingly not fading infatuation with Will Graham. So, hunching even closer to Hannibal, she takes a deep breath and letting a slow smile curve her lips upwards, points out.

‘’You knew where he’d look for you.’’

Hannibal heaves out another long sigh, ’’He said he forgave me,’’ He says, his voice sounding so brittle, his expression so ridiculously hopeful that Bedelia’s fingers clench around her glass, because— witnessing it and yet acknowledging that there's only one person existing in this world, who has the emotional reins and means to reduce Hannibal to this, _this_ miserably human thing— it feels like a razor cut: painful, sharp and deep.

Her grip tightens even more on her glass while she forces herself to recover, then she says. ‘’Forgiveness is too great and difficult for one person. It requires two.’’ When Hannibal does not react in any way to that, Bedelia takes a slow, thoughtful breath before she continues, ‘’The betrayer and the betrayed. Which one are you?’’

For the first time since she entered the room, Hannibal turns his head and gives Bedelia a long, cool, intriquid look, but when he replies, "I'm vague on those details," his voice is slow and shattered around the edges.

’’Betrayal and forgiveness are— ’’ Bedelia lifts the glass to her lips, takes another sip, trying to swallow down the lump burning in her throat. But it still burns. Burns all the way down to her chest, even as she continues, ’’best seen as something akin to falling in love.''

’’You cannot control with respect to whom you fall in love.’’ Hannibal counters, voice still rusty, his gaze once again absent.

And that— _that_ catches Bedelia square in her chest.

And right then, in that moment, studying that calm, aristocratic face, with a river of feelings running underneath, Bedelia realizes that despite all her effects, she’s never been, never could've been and never going to be more than a pale, unsatisfying substitute for _Will Graham._

Wounded pride, envy and jealousy burning hot and deadly inside her— for that righteous, reckless, twitchy little man who without any real effort managed the impossible and tamed the beast, and in the process even accomplished to capture his heart— and she doesn’t feel the slightest twitch of conscience or regrets as she starts to set into motion the strategy for her survival.

Controlling her expression, her voice comes out concerned and sad when she declares.

’’You are going to be caught.’’

.....................

On the days following, Bedelia was packing in everything she's got and more, into her effort to manipulate and persuade Hannibal in a variably passive-aggressive manner to— for once and all— get rid of Will Graham.

So, just when she felt she’s succeded and they said their goodbyes, she was more than a little surprised and nearly bristling with frustration when the door to their apartment burst open and Hannibal all but fell through it... carrying the very same man in a bridal style.

Then she risked a quick glance at Hannibal's face— pale, hard as rock, dark eyes ablazed — and a bolt of fear ran through Bedelia's spine, her fingers freezing in their motion of zipping up her suitcase.

Clutching Will to his chest, Hannibal strode through the flat without stopping or giving Bedelia a blink. But just when he reached his bedroom and opened the door, he came to a suddent halt, then slowly turning around, he gave Bedelia his full attention. A weird look passed over his face when he spotted her suitcases.

’’I’m surprised you’re still here. I thought surely, you must be already on your flight back to the USA.’’ Hannibal said easy with a slightly amused arch of his aristrotatic brows. Then he turned his head and gave his whole attention to his precious cargo again. Frustration, furry, devotion and deep cutting worry flashed through his expression in quick succession, as his eyes roamed over Will's face.

 _Honest, unmasked emotions,_ that felt like a knife between Bedelia's ribs.

After long-long seconds of Hannibal putting all his outstandingly significant commitment into observing Will's face, he lifted his head and looked at Bedelia again with a contemplating gaze. "But since you’re still here, would it be a terrible burden for you to rearrange your travel for a day later?'' He asked calm and ever so polite. ''Because I'm afraid, I'm going to need your assistance... That's it, if you'd be so kind." He requested with a small smile.

But there was an underlying, dangerous edge in his voice, a cutting, deadly sharpness in his eyes, that made it not mistaking for what it really was: a command.

His hands tightened protectively around Will’s slack body, pressing him closer to his chest. ‘’Will is badly hurt and needs our help.’’ He announced in a no nonsense tone, already disappearing into his bedroom.

Bedelia wanted to decline really, but after a quick calculation of her situation, she realized she didn’t have a choice at the moment but to obey Hannibal’s ' _request'._ Taking into account how inhumanly quick Hannibal was, she wouldn’t even have a chance to reach the elevator before she’d find herself in Hannibal’s deadly clutch.

Swallowing hard, Bedelia took a deep, steadying breath, trying to calm her galloping heart and regain her balance.

Once she felt like she's achieved just that, she headed into Hannibal’s bedroom.

When she entered the room, she found Will sitting at the edge of Hannibal’s bed, Hannibal hovering over him in the process to remove Will’s bloodied shirt. Will gave a painful grunt when Hannibal tried to pull the shirt over his shoulders and Hannibal immediatedly seized his movements.

Cradling Will’s head to press it to his chest, ’’Shhh, shhh Will, it’s alright.’’ Hannibal calmed him, so soft, so tender, one of his hands supporting the back of Will’s head while the other was stroking away sweat damped curls from Will’s forehead.

‘’Hannibal.’’ Will gasped his name, voice coming out dry and cracked, then his face contorted with another painful whimper as he tried to move his torso backward.

Hannibal immediately leaned down, placing one large, protective hand on Will’s chest. ’’Please Will, no sudden movements now.’’ Then he slid the other hand under Will’s shoulders and lifted him, just a little, to lay him down on the bed.

Again, a tiny animal sound of pain came from Will. “It hurts,” he complained.

‘’I know. I know.'’ Hannibal whispered to him, with both hands cupping the side of Will's head, his thumbs gently stroking over the deep, dark circles under Will’s eyes.

For all she knew about Hannibal's obsession with Will, and for all she suspected the disturbingly controversial feelings that have been wreaking havoc inside Hannibal for the man, she's never before seen these two together. But now that she did, for long seconds, Bedelia just stood frozen there like a complete doof. 

There was tenderness, so sweet, so unexpected. 

Feeling like she was hit by a train, on full speed, she blinked once, twice, then asked with a little bit of amusement smashed into a lot of bewilderment. ’’Hannibal, what happened?’’ 

’’He tried to kill me so Chiyon shot him.’’ Hannibal answered simple as that, with a little, amused twitch to his lips. ’’He forgives how God forgives,’’ he added —nonetheless to what he's just revealed — looking down at Will's face with an adoring gaze, then out of nowhere a syringe appeared in his hand.

Before Bedelia could open her mouth to say something... anything in regard to that-

’’No. No, no, no, no, no...’’ wide eyed, shaking, Will started to protest, but it was too late, as Hannibal already emptied the contents of the syringe into Will’s veins.

‘’Give that a moment.’’ Hannibal said softly to Will, his fingers delicately stroking over the man’s temple and cheeks until Will went numb and pliant under his hands.

Only when Will fell into total obliviousness by the drug Hannibal's shot into his shoulder, did Hannibal lifted his torso again to remove his now alarmingly blood soaked shirt. Then lowering Will back to the bed, he took off his shoes and arranged his body into a flat position. Then, his eyes never straying from Will's face, he said in a sharp, commanding cadence allowing no place for disobedience.

‘’This is where I need your assistance. I need to take the bullet out of his shoulder.’’

So, still perplexed and a great deal frightened, Bedelia assisted. She observed in a still slightly dumbfounded state as after careful disinfection, with precise, steady, surgical motions of his hands, Hannibal efficiently took the bullet out. Then he bandaged Will's shoulder, and when his fingers lingered just a bit longer, his fingertips slid over just a touch further over Will's skin than was strictly necessary, Bedelia most certainly wasn't about to voice it out.

But she couldn't help but study the way Hannibal was handling Will through the whole process: with the utmost gentleness and care, like Will was a most fragile thing, prone to shatter into pieces from the litttlest harsh movement.

Something horrible and hot crawled up into Bedelia's throat. ’’What do you intend to do with him?’’ She managed to crack out through the tightness.

Hannibal’s back jammed straight. His whole body stiffened, then his eyes flicked up from Will’s face, and Bedelia felt like icy water flowed through her veins.

Hannibal’s face was hard and perfectly still as granite, completely devoid of any kind of emotion, not even a trace left to be found of the arrays of feelings which took presence there only seconds before, while his eyes rested on Will Graham’s face.

His cold, piercing gaze singed through Bedelia like a blade, sharp enough to murder in one vicious slice as he said. ‘’I haven’t decided yet."

Born from part despair, part protest, out of character, Bedelia urgently started to suggest. ‘’Hannibal, you know you must--"

“You look tired, Bedelia.’’ Hannibal cut her off with a cold voice, his jaw set and grim. “Thank you for your assistance tonight, but if you don’t mind me saying so, you should really get some sleep.”

A rabbit pulse pounding in her throat, Bedelia gulped hard. Then steadying herself, ’’I bid you good night then.’’ She replied, surprising even herself at the measured tone of her voice.

‘’Good night, Bedelia.’’ Hannibal said in a deceptively soft voice.

And though her stomach still clutched and twisted in fright, back straight, Bedelia held her head up high. ‘’Thank you. I see you in the morning then.’’ She said quietly, in a voice carefully picked free of emotions. Though, as she was stepping closer and closer to the door, she couldn't help but feel like somebody who's just skidded hard and landed on very thin ice.


	3. Chapter 3

Of course, she couldn’t sleep. Hours later, wide eyed, Bedelia laid in the bed. Frowning at the ceiling, a myriad different thoughts and ideas burning, running through her mind, crushing into one another as she was calculating her chances.  
  
After what she witnessed tonight, she realized that no matter what Hannibal decided of Will Graham’s fate, it wasn’t going to bode well for her wellbeing. 

She was just considering to get up, get clothed, leave Hannibal a note of polite farewell and sneak out with her bags, when a loud, broken, painful sound reached her ears. Then a heartbeat later it was followed by a long, hurtful cry.  
  
Of course, Will must be in pain following such an injury, Bedelia reasoned to herself. Or taking into account all the horrors the man’s experienced and lived through in regard to his job with the FBI, not to mention the terror and bloodfest he went through a couple months ago— delivered to him by Hannibal’s loving hands — the man having nightmares, was pretty much to be expected.

Questions about Hannibal’s work, about arts, about his interest, his life in Baltimore as a surgeon and later a psychiatrist, his thoughts, opinion and experiences as a highly regarded member of the upper crust, the people he’s come to know — these were all permitted, and most of the time Hannibal answered generously, in great details. He told stories about acquittances, colleges, shared his immense knowledge and skill in the medical field, worldwide gourmets, cousins and their differences. And when here and there Bedelia asked him of his sexual experiences, past partners or preferences, about those, too, Hannibal was open and more than happy to discuss.

But, his face went hard and set, remote and like stone, jaw rigid and that lush mouth pressed into a tight line, every time Bedelia brought up _that_ night.

The one, that brought the monster out from hide. The same, that turned Hannibal the socialite’s— who’s charming company was highly sought out and to being invited to one of his famous dinner party was something to be privileged and envied by the upper crust— life upside down. And also, the one, that forced the widely respected and recognised professional to leave everything — he’s established and worked for the last decade or so — behind. And though, he’s informed her uncharacteristically tight lipped and spare on the details about what happened that night, he’s never discussed his feelings or the persons that night involved.

Not Will, Abigail, Jack or Alana. And though for a beat of a heart those cold, blank eyes flared up— with a peculiar mix of furry, frustration, sorrow, guilt and longing— a second later it was all tucked away under the ice: every time the name of Will Graham came up.

But Bedelia read the news, and even before that, she realized early on the manipulations Hannibal employed on the precious subject of his unexpected, peculiar obsession. She saw the damage and effectiveness of Hannibal’s mind game, when that play landed Will in prison- also a courtesy of Hannibal’s friendship. And tonight, she saw with her own eyes the terrible, ragged scar on Will’s abdominal, once again- a gift from Hannibal.

So, in all honesty she couldn’t really judge Will for his betrayal or his desire to wanting to kill Hannibal.

 _And yet_ … Despite all the hurt, pain and betrayal these two men bestow on the other, Hannibal must be currently watching over his Will like a faithful, besotted guard dog, Bedelia thought, swallowing down the bitterness in her throat, when envy sneaked through her so vicious and quick, it made her wince.

_It was pathetic and unimportant._

And of course, she knew how to hammer it out. Time and work and fame she’s going to make out of her time with the most famous, terrifying beast of this century. Yes, it would all help to get her over whatever this irritating mess she was feeling inside at the moment.

She didn’t need anybody. Never had. And if she survived Hannibal’s... whatever… with all her inner organs and limbs intact, she would see to it that she also never would.

But still damn him.

 _Damn Hannibal._

The bastard made her feel what she hasn’t since she was a lovestruck teenager. Buying rare, expensive gifts for her he knew she’d like. Taking her to events he knew she enjoyed. Allowing her a peek inside the complicated, horrifying working of his mind.

And the sex.

God, all the sex they had.

She knew getting physical with Hannibal would be exciting. She just didn’t know it would be so shattering.

She didn’t regret. That, Bedelia mused, would be foolish. Fate had placed an extraordinary lover in her path. The kind of a lover few women had a luck to ever have.

Hannibal awoke her in bed the way no one, damn him again, no one ever had. Scowling at the ceiling again, Bedelia remembered, how she’d ached and trembled and hungered under those talented, deadly hands and sensuous, dangerous lips. Without realizing it, she shifted to the other half of the bed, where Hannibal sometimes lingered for a while after fucking her rough and hard with a relentless energy and passion that made her feel special.

Made her feel more. Made her feel desired, respected and important.

Just so that in a blink of an eye – or more precisely at the first sight of Will Graham – make her feel less. Make her feel foolish and inadequate and, for the first time in a very long years, vulnerable.

Because despite all her thick, sturdy defensive walls somehow Hannibal wormed his way inside her fortress. And he’d wormed his way in, all right, Bedelia thought with another deep, annoyed frown, just so he could worm his way out again because simple as it was…. She wasn’t Will Graham.

Just when she thought it was all. Just when she thought she was and would be content with the physical thrill of their relationship and the extraordinary chance to study that unique beast that— though silenced, suppressed but never really rested— lived and paced under Hannibal’s carefully maintained, charming, sophisticated personal suit.

She thought she could, and would, prevent circumstances, and Hannibal, from complicating her life.

They both knew what they wanted and what they got into themselves. No emotions, no attachments were counted into their bargain. But still in the meantime, for a time being, they would enjoy each other and get from the other what they needed. And she thought when it was over, when Hannibal and the beast inside him would get restless, as Bedelia knew sooner or later it would, they could move on. And of course, she was aware of Hannibal’s disturbing desire to devour her in a more than sexual manner, she still let herself hope their bargain would end with mutual satisfaction and some kind of understanding. Meaning among other things, that for at least for a long time into the future, no part of her body would be served as a main course on Hannibal’s dinner table.

Her chest felt tight again, and she almost sneered at it. She hated it. Hated being hurt, hated being vulnerable.

That was wrong, she thought. For so many reasons it was wrong.

Sitting up on her bed she shook her head, and with an effort, also that pathetic mood. Where was her pride, her sense of control? She had always handled herself and any situation that came her way. Her feelings or whatever for Hannibal shouldn’t—couldn’t change that instinct part of her. She wouldn’t allow it. So, she would do what was right, what was practical, and what was necessary.

Decision made, she’s got out of her bed, and just when she took a step toward the chair where she placed her clothes, a buzzing sound caught her attention, shockingly loud in the sudden silence of the apartment.

Bedelia came to a sudden halt.

The shrilling sound of something scraping bone, another breathless, painful gasp... and a sheer rush of terror ran up hard against the foul mood she’s been drowning in for the last hours.

A second later she heard a heartbroken, almost animalistic howl of regret and grief, accompanied by a small, quiet sound of pain. A violent slam of a door. Frantic, hurried footsteps through the hall from and back to Hannibal’s room— and before Bedelia realized her intention, she caught herself flying through the hall and closing her hand over the knob of Hannibal’s bedroom.

Slowly-so slowly the knob turned in her hand, and she slightly opened the door, just so she could take a peek inside.

But after the moment it took for her eyes to take in the sight of horror on Hannibal’s bed, she stopped dead in her place behind the doorframe. She felt weak inside, jittery at the fingertips, her knuckles going white on the knob.

There was a bloodied bone saw thrown to the floor. A basin filled with water already pink and cloudy with blood. Hannibal’s bed a bloody mess just as much as Will’s forehead. There was a sickeningly deep and wide cut on the front of Will's skull, judging from the amount of blood steadily flowing out from it, it must have gone through skin, reaching bone.

Bedelia’s mind went blank for an instant, then shock was on her like a cat, hissing through her blood.

Her breath was coming in gasps, her hands and legs were heavy, icy and trembling. Her skin crawled, and for one hideous moment the dread was so bright it blinded her eyes. But the buzzing in her ears warned her to take deep, careful breaths and flee before Hannibal noticed her presence and most probably, she was going to get destroyed and certainly in a much more gruesome and painful way than what he’s just attempted to do to Will Graham.

But like somebody in a trance, with a vague sense of disgust at herself, Bedelia stayed rooted where she was and observed.

…………………

‘’Will, Will. Will… _Will_...’’ Hannibal kept repeating Will’s name like a broken record, his voice getting louder and more desperate with every passing second. He was dabbing then pressing down hard with gauzes drenched in some kind of disinfectant, trying to stanch the wound on Will’s forehead.

Before Will Graham, Bedelia thought Hannibal was an impenetrable wall. Nothing and nobody could get through and inside. To be honest, she didn’t even believe the man was capable of any kind of emotions in regard to attachment or love. And since realizing _What_ he really was, her theory was cemented inside her head.

Since then, of course, she saw the cracks on the wall when it came to Will Graham. But still, she could never have imagined, Hannibal looking so vulnerable.

His breath panting out, quick and crushed like he’d just climbed a mountain, over and over, Hannibal chanted Will’s name while he bandaged the wound on Will's forehead. Once it was done, he cleaned off the blood from Will’s neck and face, dipping the cloth into the water, repeating Will's name again and again and again. ‘’Will, Will, stay with me. _Will_ —” He only broke off when letting out a loud groan, Will opened his eyes.

‘’Where would I go?’’ Will sighed out.

And those words, that raw, cracked voice, that shattered breath, and those half lidded, fuzzy blue eyes, managed to do what no dangers, threats, violence, tears or agonised pleas and cries have ever before managed.

“Will.” Hannibal gasped once more, then the monster came apart by the stream and tore into pieces.

Hiding behind the door, Bedelia swore she could almost smell the scent of Hannibal’s relief, and fascinated, bewildered, she watched as Hannibal froze for a moment, then all of a sudden, he was on Will. Hooking his arms under Will’s shoulders, Hannibal dragged Will's upper body up from the bed and crushed him in an embrace so tight, surely it must’ve bruised the other man's ribs.

“Will, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’’ Totally undone, Hannibal’s voice was raw, brittle as broken glass. Cradling Will’s head against his chest, he buried his face in the crook of Will’s shoulder and neck, the line of his back one shaking, relived mess. Inhaling deeply, then heaving out a long, broken noise, his arms wrapped around Will even tighter.

Perhaps that was why, eyes stunned and wide, Will blanched, ‘’Ha— Hannibal,’’ He tried his voice. It came out breathy and small. ‘’I can’t breathe.” He complained, voice shuddering off in the tight, desperate clutch of Hannibal’s arms.

Like burned, Hannibal threw himself away, causing Will to fell back onto the bed with a loud, surprised grunt. “Did I hurt you?” Hannibal asked with trembling hands he was yet to steady, stroking back Will’s hair from his forehead. Then cupping Will’s face, he gently turned it left and right so he could check it for himself.

Letting out a weak, dry chuckle, ‘’Of course you did, you bastard.’’ Will declared, his voice still rusty around the edges. His eyes were still blurry, maybe from drugs, maybe from pain as they slowly slid over Hannibal’s face. “You wouldn’t want to touch me right now.” He shot Hannibal a warning look, freezing the man's hands on their way to Will’s shoulder. “It’d be a mistake. You don’t like to make them.”

Hannibal’s hands dropped into his lap. ‘’And yet, it seems to me, it’s all I’m doing, since the day we met.’’ His voice was raw, but his face was calm, controlled, his body gone unnaturally still, like a wolf about to spring as he eyed Will, and Will stared back.

And then, Will shook his head at himself, the corner of his mouth slowly curled up into a wry smile. “Been wanting to get your hands on me for a long time.” He grumbled out, ‘’But for the sake of God, Hannibal, believe me, it’s a far cry from the circumstances and ways how I imagined it to happen.’’ And though his voice was quiet, it was cutting with sarcasm and bitterness.

For a second Hannibal’s eyes slid closed as he took a deep breath. ‘‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.’’

“Yes, you did.” Will retorted without a blink, making Hannibal to snap his eyes open and lock them with Will’s again.

Will’s eyes narrowed as he watched Hannibal’s gaze flicker with something very much resembling mirth.

When Will lifted a questioning brow Hannibal stared back but stayed quiet. Then after long, tensed silence, deep as well as heavy, with a deep, defeated breath, Hannibal gave in. ‘’Yes. I did.’’ he admitted quietly. ‘’But I’m still sorry.’’

‘’No. You are not.’’ Will said mildly but very definitely, his eyes coming more and more sharper and alive the longer they kept locked with Hannibal’s.

With those knowing, soulful, blue-blue eyes concentrated on his face, of course, hopelessly smitten as he was, Hannibal obviously didn’t have a defence against that look. As if the absolute, naked admiration rapidly filling Hannibal’s usually cold-cold gaze wasn’t enough clue, Bedelia couldn’t say she was even surprised anymore when Hannibal didn’t seem to have other choice, but to burst out the truth. “That. I’m not.” 

Will flinched a little at that, his eyes lit with hurt, “Well, that’s a cheery thought to sleep on.” He said blankly with a tight smile, and turned his head to the side, away from Hannibal.

And with that gesture, he aimed the arrow well. Bedelia watched it hit home, stunned by just how sharp the point was.

There was a nervous twitch of a muscle on Hannibal’s face, a flare of pain in his eyes before in a seemingly helpless response his hand reached out towards Will’s face, just so to stop halfway and press his palms, hard, to his tights rather than touch the other man.

It was one of the few times Bedelia’s ever seen Hannibal honestly wrong-footed, unbalanced or less than in perfect control of his emotions and facial gesture. And if those other occasions weren’t also so all-around solely belonging to Will Graham, she’d most definietly enjoy witnessing it this tme.

But as it was once again obviously not the case, it bit deep. As did every remark, show of uncharacteristic temper and emotion nowadays, all solely in regard to that man. Unbelievably frustrated and angry at her own helpless response, Bedelia looked away and fisted her hands in her fight for composure, then her attention was pulled back when Hannibal heaved out a deep, long sigh.

“I don’t know how to handle you.’’ Hannibal said, his posture pride and straight, but his fingers were turning white from the strain as they bit into the flesh of his tights.

Will let out a rather rude snort, that Hannibal of course, just let to pass. ‘’You did handle me just alright.’’ He snapped back with a slow smile appearing on his face, but his eyes slashed Hannibal into ribbons.

“No, Will. I did not.’’ Unbothered, Hannibal insisted, linking his hands in his lap. ‘’When I plan something, I always-always stick to it. And it always worked for me.’’ He explained detached and cool. His eyes were staring over Will’s shoulder's into a far side of the room, lost into memories that must’ve been playing at the back of his mind as he went on. ‘’I always made sane and rational decisions and plans in order to get want I want, or to ensure my survival as well as to avoid my capture. Feelings did never, in no way influenced or held me back from achieving my goal. Fondness, attraction or sexual drives never overwhelmed my brain, nor did I believe it possible or expected for it to happen.” He shook his head as if to clear it, then met Will’s eyes again. Those beautiful lips quirked. ‘’Then I met you,’’ he blew out a breath, his words were slow and very deliberate, ‘’and for the first time in my life, I didn’t know how to handle the way you made me feel. And just like I said, and I believe you are already aware Will, I’m usually exceptionally good at handling things.”

’’Remind me of it.’’ Will huffed under his breath, and when Hannibal just kept looking at him with a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, Will raked his hand through his hair, pressed his lips together as he seemingly searched for words. When he finally spoke he settled on, “Im not the one who started this whole mess.’’ Then his eyes shadowed and his voice was thick with hurt as he added. ’’I trusted you.’’

Letting out a long sight, Hannibal shifted slightly on the bed. “What do you expect me to say, Will?” He asked almost beseechingly, “What do you expect me to feel?”

“I don’t know.’’ Will aimed a cool, level look at him. Then he drew in a breath, released it and suddenly sounding drained, ‘’I no longer know exactly what I’m feeling myself,’’ he added. 

‘’Today, you also betrayed my trust. Again.’’ And Bedelia couldn’t be sure if Hannibal meant for it to come out so proud or with so much acceptance as it did.

Will only tilted his head and cocked a brow.

At Will’s bewildered gaze, ‘’You wanted to kill me.’’ Hannibal spat out in his defence, but his eyes flared up like torches then went molten, and once again, a much fonder expression settled over his feature than his words warranted. Reminding Bedelia that, yes, Hannibal was a cannibalistic monster with a peculiar, cruel, sadistic streak, who was also without a doubt a total goner for Will Graham.

‘’Even Steven. Remember?’’ Will flashed a grin at him. Then he cocked his head and gave Hannibal a long, lazy look from under his ridiculously long lashes. ‘’Are we straight now?”

Well, that seemed to settle the matter. A tiny smile touched the corner of Hannibal’s mouth as he gave Will a small nod. ‘’I believe we are.’’

“You see.” Will told him with a level look and a one-sided shrug, ‘’I’m not entirely sure I could’ve gone through it.’’

‘’Just as I could not.’’ Hannibal responded, so very softly, and obviously not able to resist anymore, in a deliberately slow gesture he lifted his hand and cupped the side of Will’s head. When this time Will didn’t opposed or jerked away from his touch only grew still as he watched Hannibal with narrowed, wary eyes, with incredible gentle fingers, Hannibal brushed his hand over the sharp line of Will's cheeks.

And just like that, Will’s eyes changed and he melted. ‘’Hmmm,‘’ he hummed a pleased sigh, rolling his head to push it further into Hannibal’s palm. ‘’I could get used to it. You. Touching me. Without wanting to break or make me bleed.’’

Hannibal’s lips curved and leaning closer, he brushed them over Will’s hair. ‘’I don’t want to hurt you anymore.’’

Will let out a sound, a cross between a sigh a snort and laugh. “So you said.”

Those luscious lips qurked into a smirk as Hannibal pressed a kiss to Will’s lifted brow. “I did not.’’ He countered, then his hands lifted Will’s face, forcing him to look up and meet his eyes. “All I ever said was-” And there it was again, that look, a clash of hurt- anger- desire-longing- want- and affection Bedelia has become so familiar with over the last couple months. ’’I only want what's best for you.” Hannibal said gentle and low.

’’Yeah, for all the good it got me.’’ Will retorted flatly, waving a hand all over himself, then at the twitch of Hannibal’s fingers on his face, his eyes darted away.

‘’Oh, Will,‘’ Hannibal’s tone was thick with regret, and when he gathered both of Will’s hand carefully in his and brought their joined hands up to press his lips on the scraped skin of Will’s knuckles, Bedelia saw the flash of surprised pleasure in Will’s eyes. And when Will's breath hitched a little, with a purr humming in his throat, Hannibal turned Will’s hands up and placed small, gentle kisses into the abused skin of his palm.

It was a gesture, so humble, so gentle, that Bedelia felt another rush of envy and astonishment streak through her blood, even as the ever present psychiatrist inside her wondered. How could there be such tenderness, side by side with such savagery?

She knew Hannibal could be gentle, caring. Because shockingly enough, alongside all that immense power, and the potential and taste for sadistic cruelty and violence, there was a peculiar streak carved into the monster, that enjoyed spoiling, pampering and taking care of the few people he’d deemed worthy of his attention.

She’d the experience of it all over the the last couple months.

But everything Hannibal did, it felt like he did all of it with that meticulously planned, frighteningly clever strategy and control, that was always-always present under the attentive, caring, indulging surface. 

But with Will, control clearly shredded now, every touch, every word and look, seemed to come from the purest instinct.

There was perfect silence for long, precious seconds, both men feeling this, whatever _this_ twisted thing between them was – but it was static, splintering and cracking around them in the air- and then Will took a shuddering breath and slowly lifted one hand to stroke it through Hannibal’s hair.

When slowly Hannibal lifted his head up under Will's hand, his eyes were bright and soft, alight whit hope and the purest adoration, and when their eyes met, Will smiled, slow, wide, eyes rich and full with so many years of brewing emotions squeezed between confusion and want and vengeance and fury and _why_.

“Neither do I.” Will said in response to Hannibal’s earlier declaration, his voice coming out all crushed up, ‘’That’s it. Want to hurt you anymore.’’

‘’Will.’’ Hannibal breathed out again, low and shaky. There were fine tremors in his hands as his thumbs rubbed away a smudge of blood from Will’s forehead. For a second he hesitated, then he leaned in and lavished the bandage on Will’s forehead, the deep circles under his eyes, the sides of his nose, his cheeks and the strong line of his chin with small, gentle kisses.

‘’Hannibal, does it mean-‘’ Will started, startled and bemused when Hannibal pulled back. But it was all he managed to get out before Hannibal moved fast.

Of course, knowing him for the predator what he was, Bedelia should have expected him to move so fast. But suspecting and seeing was an altogether different matter. So, suspecting notwithstanding, it still managed to take her by surprise.

Hannibal had Will hauled up from the bed— his arms clamped behind Will's back, hands cupping the back of Will’s neck and crushing him into another tight embrace — before the other man could even blink his eyes.

After everything that happened tonight, it still astounded Bedeila —that quick, terrible, involuntary shudder that moved through Hannibal when the almost fatal, horrible deed and its consequence seemed to suddenly struck him, hard. ‘’I couldn’t kill you, Will—‘’ Hannibal's voice shuddered off, pressing Will tighter into his chest, and Bedelia was sure, if Hannibal could have burrowed inside the other man withought killing him, he would have.

His lips brushed Will's cheek as he nosed at the skin below the bandage on Will's head. ‘’I couldn’t go through with it, because I—‘’ Hannibal said in a low, rough sound before his voice choked off again, and for long seconds, all he could do was to shake his head and press his face into Will’s neck. He took a deep breath, inhaling Will’s scent, and a low, deep, anguished, rumbling kind of sound tore out from his throat. ‘’A life without you in, isn’t a life I want to live.’’ He whispered into Will’s neck. 

Totally poleaxed, Bedelia just gaped at the pair, barely able to believe what just came out of Hannibal’s mouth.

And for a moment wide eyed, Will looked just as surprised as Bedelia felt. Then he blinked, sucked in a stunned breath at hearing those words, the desperation, pain and need from Hannibal behind them.

......………….

And then, somehow, in the next moment everything changed.

Will’s eyes sparked up with something like joy and his voice curled around a loud, pleased moan, when Hannibal pressed his mouth at the base of his throat. Then he sighed and curled a hand into Hannibal's hair and tugging gently, he made Hannibal to tear his wet, open mouth away from his skin. He moved back his head and searching, his eyes roamed over Hannibal's face. 

And Hannibal stared back, dark eyes ablazed with naked hunger and want.

‘’Conjoined. Just like I said.’’ Will murmured low and coaxing, his lips curling into a small, quirking smile. Then he cupped a hand behind Hannibal’s neck, put the other on Hannibal’s cheek, and drew him in for a slow, lengthy, thorough kiss.

For a moment Hannibal went completely still, then he let out a deep, satisfied groan and in the next instant he attacked Will’s lips like a man starving. His tensed fingers went limp on Will’s shoulder and his other hand fisted in Will’s hair, locking their heads together as he kissed him back, open-mouthed and deep and heated and desperate.

If Bedelia wasn’t so baffled by the turn of events, she would have been seriously insulted. Because just like she said before, Hannibal was a rare, experienced and passionate lover. She had the luck to taste and devour those sensuous, beautiful lips and in turn being the recipient of demanding, fervent kisses.

But she’s never been kissed by Hannibal like this. As if those kisses were all—as if she was all— the sole vibrant centre of Hannibal's world.

She watched Hannibal's eyes glaze before they sliped close. She heard the ragged moan as Hannibal's mouth fed on Will's; greedy and gulping hard as he swallowed down Will's moans and gasps straight from his lips.

“Oh God,” Will moaned as Hannibal licked and nipped and sucked in his lips. His hands slid from Hannibal's face to close around his back, and they never stopped moving over strong, sinuous muscles as everything in Will seemed to strain into the kiss: the heat of it, the yearning, the pleasure, the danger and promise. “Kiss,” Will gasped on a shuttered breath when he finally pulled back, “You can sure as hell kiss.’’

Breathless, Hannibal was in shambles, Bedelia could see it when he lifted his head. Lips bitten red, licked-shiny, open and gasping, face flushed and slack with pleasure and bliss. And when he opened his eyes they were darker than the night, his gaze very intense, almost fierce and filled with such depthless wonder and admiration and need as he focused it on Will’s face, that Bedelia actually wondered how Will didn’t drown in them. 

But Will’s face was just as flushed as Hannibal’s, his breath just as fast. And Bedelia realized by the bright, hungry, delighted look in his eyes that whatever it was that stormed and quaked through Hannibal, it stormed and quaked through Will as well.

And the realization that yes, she wanted that... Through all those months spent together, she wanted to have Hannibal look at her, just once, the way he was looking at Will Graham. And the fact that he never did, made her now irrationally angry and frustrated beyond logical measure. And that only infuriated her further. Because oh, it was demoralizing to realize she had that vulnerable need inside. 

In the next second, iron pride chilled her eyes, and for the first time she looked- really looked at Will Graham, trying to see him through Hannibal's eyes.

She watched his face, the flicker of smile and pleasure on it, while Hannibal brushed a gentle thumb along the bandage on his forehead.

Oh, he was handsome alright. Not in that exotic, aristocratic, dangerously devil’s good look that Hannibal was gifted with, but if a woman- or a man, as it is- had breath in her body, she’d look twice, maybe even sigh over that thick, curly, dark brown hair, that Hannibal seemed to be just as fascinated with. Because his lips curved, his eyes keenly focused on Wills face, in an adoring gesture, over and over Hannibal was streaking his fingers through those messy curls.

And there were those long, dark lashes over knowing, perceptive eyes, with a varying shades of blue, that could be curiously amused and sarcastic and cool like ice, and carve a person into pieces at ten paces, when their owner was in a dark mood. But also they could be warm and soft and just as clear and beautiful as the most radiating summer sky as they were now, lustrous and lovely and bright as they stayed fixed on Hannibal.

Then there was that delicate, sharp-jawed face, as a Chinese statue Bedelia saw in an antique store. Her eyes slid over the slightly crooked nose, that strong, stubborn chin that kept that picture-perfect face from being too pretty for a man.

Then there was the fact, that the man was highly intelligent and tough as a shoe leather. 

And Bedelia could have almost laughed out at the sudden stab of realisation. 

Despite the fact she already started to grasp the true concept of these two men’s betrayal-vengence- love dynamic — and she was well aware of Will's knack for manipulation, for God's sake, he was being able to trick even Hannibal more than once — she still assumed, it was mostly Hannibal who had the upper hand in their game. Playing Will like he played everybody else; everybody else being a puppet and Hannibal the one pulling the strings. But as her eyes swept slowly over again that seemingly fragile face, Bedelia seriously had to resist the urge to slap her own forehead.

How in the hell she hasn’t realised it sooner?

Even as it pricked Bedelia’s pride again to remember she’d never been able to outwit Hannibal nor outhit Will from Hannibal’s mind, loathe as she was to admit, she'd never have handled and manipulated Hannibal the way Will did. She’d never have achieved what Will did.

She watched tonight how without moving at all, Will had Hannibal tied in knots. How Will just had to crook his little finger and Hannibal’d have chewed through glass to get to him. How, Will just had to flash that quick, boyish grin, and it brought both; Hannibal and the beast inside him, crouched down to their knees in a split of a second. And when those impossibly blue eyes were pinned on Hannibal, Will could've chew the man up, spit him out, and still, Hannibal would've crawled back for more.

When her attention snapped back to the two men again, her lips pressed together hard as another vicious snake of envy curled through her. She felt like something has been stolen right out of her chest while she watched them together, and found out at the expression on _Hannibal’s face,_ that feeling of pleasure could be huge and there, just from having a chance to cradle your beloved's head.

And even the bittersweet victory and the thrill over the unique— scientifically world wide, unanimously declared as impossible— opportunity to have a firsthand view of what Hannibal a cannibal, serial killer and sadistic monster of the century looked like, when he was very much and deeply, hopelessly, and irrecoverably in love— couldn't fill that hole inside Bedelia’s chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I!m sorry but this chapter ended to be a monster in lenghts, so decided to spit it into two. Will post the other half as soon as I have time to go through, give it a brush and check it for spelling.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was posted before separately as 'The only Exception', but I took it down for editing, and was simply too lazy to fill out all the boxes to post it again as a standalone, so made it a last chapter of this. 
> 
> So, if you find like you've read it before, it's because you just really might've. :-)

Bedelia couldn’t watched them anymore. Not with the way her chest felt squeezed and tight. Manoeuvring carefully, she inched her body away from the door trying not to make any noise.

She’s just taken a step forward when she heard Hannibal’s voice, a deep, surprised grunt curling around Will’s name, again. “Will.” Then a loud, undignified noise of ‘oommpff’ so absolutely out of proportion from Hannibal polished vocabulary that Bedelia stopped dead on her second step. ’’Will, what are you-‘’ Hannibal’s voice choked off on a surprised grind of sound. ’’Will’,’’ His voice was so breathless, so shattered, so confused … and Bedelia was already turning back before she actually decided to move.

The realistic part of her mind warned her that she shouldn’t watch them anymore because she was about to end up hurting more than she already was. But the never resting professional’s curiosity inside her couldn’t give a damn. Maybe she has a latent streak of masochism, Bedelia mused as she took her previous spot behind the door outside Hannibal’s bedroom. It was always satisfying to discover new things and gather knowledge, even if it happened to be about yourself.

And this was all, it was, Bedelia told herself even as her throat burned, and her chest still felt like something tried to crawl its way out of it. Professional curiosity.

It was a rare and rather irresistible chance to observe how a monster such Hannibal behaved or for that matter acted in sexual interaction, with the only person he had genuine, gentle feelings for.

And while Hannibal’s personality was much more complex and controversial for it to be labelled with any definition of current psychology, he _did_ have the traits of a psychopath. Because though contrary to others diagnosed with ASPD, Hannibal possessed a rather enviable talent, a fiery intelligence and intuition for understanding what other people thought, wanted, felt or believed— had an excellent skill in mentalizing and seeing things from others perspective, and he could emphasize with and consider the thoughts, emotions and behaviours of others on an alarmingly high level— he just bloody didn’t care.

He had a callous and cold disregard to the welfare or emotions of others. He used both emotional and mental manipulation to get what he wanted, and he was frighteningly good at it. He was a cold, calculating, and terribly skilled, perfect actor: charming, caring, polite, made you believe he cared, pretended to be greatly interested in you by mimicking emotions, while in reality, he didn’t have any.

Hannibal was a cruel, merciless, sadistic serial killer, who completely lacked guilt or remorse for cold-bloodedly killing, brutalising or torturing his victims. And not just in the physical sense. He was a relentless predator with a peculiar sense of humour, who loved to play just for the sake of the game. And it never ended well for his heedless playmates. Like a shark sending blood, he would catch the subject of his temporary interest by sinking his fangs into the meat of their mind and soul, and with terrifying speed, smoothness, precision, wit and cunning, he would tore them to pieces. And like the Devil he was, he would watch the process of their demolition pitilessly, getting a kick out of their mental and emotional anguish and dread.

He simply didn’t have the ability to care for the consequences. What’s more, he thrived on the pain, suffering, misery or chaos his actions and manipulations caused.  
People for him were objects— to use for his own benefit, entertainment or personal gains —or per se, pigs for his peculiar gourmet.

That’s it. Except, when it came to Will Graham.

So obviously it was important to study his behavioural pattern around the only one exception.

So, that’s said, Bedelia really couldn’t find any fault in her perfectly sound reasoning. Professional curiosity. Only that, Bedelia told herself again as she turned her head slightly to delve into the messy, thick stew that was the consistency of the Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter dish.  
..............

The evidence of what might’ve happened was clear, in the hastily strewn bedcover on the floor. In the way, outstretched, Hannibal was hunched over and between Will’s legs on the bed. He was just in the process to lever himself up to his elbows while he was slightly swinging right and way up as not to crash the smaller man, when one of Will’s hands flew up to clutch his shoulder and his heels closed tight over Hannibal’s.

‘’Don’t even think about it.’’ Will said in a quiet voice, but obviously it was loud enough for Hannibal to effectively freeze him in mid motion.

’’That was a very reckless thing to do Will,’’ Hannibal’s voice was breathy and rough as he chastised the other man. “We shall consider your injuries.’’ He propped himself up on his elbows, trying to push himself upright, but a small, warning squeeze of Will’s fingers made him to stop again. ‘’You must avoid to make-’’ Since his face was already hovering above Will's, he looked down, their eyes locked and his voice broke off.

Will’s face was taut, all planes and angles and want, eyes burning bright, burning for Hannibal. But his voice was prime and smooth like silk as he pointed out.

’’Injuries you caused.’’ He threw Hannibal a quick, warning look when he shifted a little again, and his hand slid down to Hannibal’s back, pressing down hard, preventing his escape.

Hannibal sneaked a careful glimpse at Will. ’’Will, allow me to correct your statement. Injury. Singular. Caused by me.’’

Will graced Hannibal with an arched brow. “Really.”

A small smile touched Hannibal’s lips just before he said.

‘’Technically I can only claim the one on your head. Since I suppose the other one I inflicted on you months ago isn’t causing you pain or any hindrance in your movement anymore, I believe you meant the two injuries you attained today.’’ Hannibal explained primly, in his usual upper-crusty range.

Will’s both brows flew up in enquiry now, and already bracing himself for the battle, Hannibal swiftly said, ‘’Will, you can’t seriously blame me for Chiyon shutting you on your shoulder in defence of me. An understandable reaction from her side caused by your own reckless behaviour.'' Hannibal actually sounded slightly miffed about Will's audacity. ''So technically, I caused only one of your injuries. Today.’’ Then he watched those blue eyes widen with a vaguely amused twist to his mouth.

There was a momentary pause, and then a laugh bubbled out of Will. ’’Christ, I really missed you. I missed your frighteningly excellent talent to speak bullshit in that incredibly hot, posh accent and impeccable manners of yours. Nobody can bullshit his way out from a hole the way you do,’’ he grinned at Hannibal with a sudden, warm affection in his eyes.

And those beautiful lips twitched before helpless as usual against that smile, white, sharp teeth bared, Hannibal was smiling back.

Then Will suddenly sobered like somebody slapped him in the face. He glared at Hannibal.

Exuding interest and affection that appeared to be just innate around Will, Hannibal’s gaze scanned patiently Will’s face. His eyes became more intrigued and amused the longer they observed Will’s pouting face, then his glaring and grumpy face, his hurt face, then a sort of blur of horrified miserable and resigned face, before Will snorted through his nose.

"Oh my God, I honestly can't decide if the fact that I still want you after everything you did to me, is the most hilariously tragical or most genuinely horrifying thing about me.’’

Which, on the whole, was probably not the most reassuring sign about Bedelia’s psyche either, a thought that occurred to her often, but genuinely she just didn’t want to think about right now.

_‘’Will,’’_

Hannibal's remorseful face was a real, rare treasure to be observed as he loomed over Will on his elbows. Then bracing himself on one strong arm he scrubbed a hand through his hair in a way that shouldn't have been so flattering on him, but apparently even confused and miserable or savagely miserable, Hannibal was incapable of looking anything but sexually appealing. ’’Will, I’m really—’’

Will shot him a look that clearly expressed he really didn't want that sentence to end.

"I know that this is your, ‘’I'm-sorry that- I’m- not sorry- I-tried-to-kill-you face, and that you care about me in your own disturbing and freaky protective-possessive way.’’ Will said, and there was a wavering thread of confused wonder and disbelief in his words. ’’Which is why I'm taking this in stride and not freaking out about it… Not much.’’ He frowned, correcting himself, then let out a reluctant sigh. ’’And I want to believe you because I’m rather fond of you too, which is why I forgave you pretty much as soon as I opened my eyes after you pumped me full with drugs and wanted to…’’ He huffed out a noise, gesturing around his head, ‘’Yeah, you know what. Which is crazy and weird and I’m just really not going to think too much about it what it says about me because it’s just gonna get weirder and creepier and we are already too deep in crazy and weird.’’

Will's grin was quick as lightning and just as bold, when in the next second, inching closer, he ran his fingers down over Hannibal’s chest to open one button of his shirt, then one more and one more... ’’Which is why, I very much want to kiss you right now again.'' Will whispered low and husky, brushing his fingers over Hannibal’s cheek in a deliberately slow gesture before in one fluid movement he yanked Hannibal’s shirt down his shoulders, locking his arms, then grabbed Hannibal by the collar of his shirt and dragged him down to fit his mouth to his.

Hannibal made a filthy noise between a shudder and a moan, biting at the lush bottom lip pressed against his own, then he scraped those sharp, dangerous teeth over it. With a jerk he freed his arms from the restraints of his shirt and tossed it carelessly aside. The moment his arms were free again, he hooked one arm under Will’s uninjured shoulder and tugged the bunched material of Will’s shirt in his fingers to press him even closer. Then he just held Will in a smooth but tight embrace, no fumbling, no grappling, but he tangled the fingers of his other hand in Will’s dark curls to tug his head to the side as he changed the angle of the kiss and deepened it. He touched the hollow of Will's throat and when Will’s lips parted to let out a shattered breath, Hannibal’s tongue flicked hungrily over them, between them, then teasing it inside he curled it around Will’s before he sucked Will's tongue into his mouth.

The sound Hannibal made when Will’s taste must have busted into his palate, was very close to a feral purr, that made a helpless bolt of arousal run through Bedelia’s spine, right down to the soles of her feet. Then contemplating on it a bit, she decided she didn’t like it, at all, when the realization — that she’s never heard that sound torn out from Hannibal’s throat, not even at the throne of his orgasm — hit her deeply, clear and cruel... and she felt bruised.

 _For Heaven’s sake,_ to consider they were involved in an intense, physical relationship for months. And obviously among being a man-eating sadist, a great admirer of the art and aesthetic and the embodiment of the devil in general— as Devils do— Hannibal was a hedonist. And in the lieu of last months, on top of it, a reckless, pinning hedonist. So, it didn’t even come as surprise when from time to time Hannibal brought home a man or a woman and took them hot and hard, while Bedelia observed, participated or just tried not to listen to them from her room.

But not once sounded Hannibal like _that_.

Of course, there was heat in their kisses. Bedelia already came to expect that. But it was the lushness and the strengths of hunger that surprised her—the wide, sumptuous spread of it, that seemed to struck both men like a bolt of lightning and enflame them at the meeting of their tongue and lips.

Bedelia couldn’t stop her breath from quickening and she had to make a conscious effort to pump air in and out of her lungs, when the sense memory of how that tongue tasted sliding, curling against her own, zipped straight to the center of her mind. _Taunting her._ Making her hot and wanting.

Trying to damp the need, Bedelia pressed down the heel of her palms, hard, against her mouth to not make any sound while she took deep, calming breaths.

Still, it was a shocking kind of realization, that after everything what happened between them, after the emotional rollercoaster Hannibal put her through tonight, the memory… Even just the memory, could induce such a strong, unrestrained reaction in her body.

Or maybe not so shocking, Bedelia deduced in a deeper introspection.

It had never been so before Hannibal, she reflected with a quiet sigh. Sexual encounters had always been far down on her list of priorities. She wondered if Hannibal ever knew it, he would’ve been surprised to know that before him, she had considered herself hesitant, even a little rigid, when it came to physical relationships.

Knowing him, Bedelia decided, he’d just be unbearably smug.

It was a pity she couldn’t blame her celibacy of the past few years for her wildfire response to him. But using abstinence as the major reason for her response would be far from honest.

Because no matter how much she wanted to deny it, the moment Hannibal put his hand on her, it felt as though her libido had been nothing more than dry timber, set to bonfire by the slightest touch of those talented fingertips. Whatever her life had been before, it was clear he’d changed it. She was certain she would never look at cozy nights by a fire in the same way again, now that she knew what she was capable of with the right… bedpartner.

Just how, she wondered, did a woman looked for another man, once she’d had a taste of Hannibal? That was something she was going to find out and deal with, one day at a time, in a hopefully long-long future of her life. Then her attention was drawn back by Hannibal’s breathless gasp.  
............

“Will, this is madness.” Hannibal dragged his lips from Will’s to race it over his face. “I wasn’t going to do this.”

“That’s okay.” Will grabbed Hannibal’s head to drag his mouth back to his. “I’ll do it.”

“Will, taking into account the seriousness of your injuries we should be really more sensible.” Hannibal said but his protest was shaky and weak at the most, as with a seemingly valiant effort, he- who always took and took and damned the consequences- stopped himself from taking more.

Will’s laugh was quick, helpless and rich. “God, but you’re a terrible piece of work, Dr Lecter.” Bemused, he shook his head. His lips curved again, and his eyes went dangerously blue as they bored into Hannibal’s before he nuzzled his way to Hannibal’s ear. “And just for the record, sex may have to be responsible, but it sure as hell doesn’t have to be sensible.” he whispered against Hannibal’s ear.

Impressed and intrigued, Bedelia observed the flutter of Hannibal’s lashes, caught that helpless hitch of breath.

Hannibal’s eyes were pretty much devouring Will in whole before he turned his head and murmured against Will’s jawbone. “Now, you’re trying to make me mad.’’ He pressed his lips to Will’s temple and lingered over it long enough to make Will squirm and grab Hannibal’s face to lift it up.

Turning his head on the pillow, Will looked Hannibal in the eyes. ‘’How does it make you feel?’’ He asked with a cocked brow and a gleeful smile.

‘’I’m feeling a staggering amount of delight and arousal.’’ Hannibal answered in a muffled voice into Will’s palm, tasting Will’s skin with his tongue and lips, until Will’s fingers fluttered on his face.

Will’s brows furrowed as he spent a moment contemplating that, then another moment fidgeting a little on the bed, and then letting out a small, defeated sigh he went limp and for one more moment let himself sink into that wicked, wet, affectionate caress before he pulled his fingers slowly back along the line of Hannibal’s cheeks. He huffed like a scowling cat before he opened his mouth to say something, surely something cocky, but Hannibal cupped his face in a good, firm grip.

 _‘’Will,_ ’’ Hannibal gasped out, and God, Bedelia thought, _how could a mere name hold so much yearning?_ Then Hannibal dove in.

Their kiss was staggeringly deep and breathtakingly erotic.

Will was making some kind of subvocal groans into their kiss, like there was nothing better than tasting Hannibal’s lips while his thighs cradled Hannibal’s, his hips rocking up, and Bedelia might’ve been tempted to agree except— that Hannibal pushed one knee slightly up between Will’s thighs while he was also rolling his hips down against the other man’s, the hard line of his erection clearly visible through the material of his pants, and oh, Bedelia heard the catch in her own breathing as— she remembered _which_ other parts of Hannibal’s body she liked.

Will has just grabbed a handful of Hannibal’s hair to keep his head in place when despite the whimpering noise of protest he made, Hannibal ended the kiss. He clawed at Hannibal’s back, and when Hannibal levered back, blind with need, Will reared up. _"Nooooooo._ " His hands thrashed out in objection, at one point folding back over themself when much to his obvious frustration, like a snake, Hannibal’s body slid all the way out of them. 

Still gasping for breath, Will pressed his swollen lips against Hannibal’s hair and whispered, “Hannibal, you really shouldn’t start something you have no intension to finish.’’

“ _Mmm,_ ” Hannibal slowly lifted his head, their faces only an inch apart and his eyes were wicked above that honey smile when he looked Will in the eye. ’'Strictly speaking I wasn’t the one who started this.’’

Will’s eyes slipped over Hannibal’s flushed face then glanced down at the tent in Hannibal’s pants and raised an eyebrow as he met Hannibal’s eyes again. ’’Strictly speaking, you've just admitted, you've wanted me from the moment we met.” A grin split his face, ‘’So it was you who started it. _Strictly speaking._ ” Will added lamely.

For a moment, Hannibal looked positively stunned, then both those thick arms caught Will round the waist as Hannibal uttered a surprised bark of a laugh against Will's temple. ''My precious, wicked boy,'' he purred, then that sensual mouth twisted up in an infuriating little smirk. “Will,” he breathed into to Will’s ear. “You really shouldn’t challenge me.”

Will's body shuderred from Hannibal's hot breath even as he let out a tsk sound, lips parting to obviously deliver some cocky retort. Then he glanced up to meet Hannibal’s eyes and only had time to widen his own when that lean body tensed then sprung like a wolf, and in a split of a second Will was scooped up from the bed.

He let out a surprised grunt then looked up at Hannibal in a way that made all kind of adjective ran through Bedelia’s head– but not one of them of a complimentary kind. “Christ, Hannibal,” he said testily, ‘’Let me down, will you?”

Having a time of his life, Hannibal’s lips quirked up as he shook his head a little. ‘’I most certainly have no intention to do so.’’

“You‘re a bloody show off and if you expect me to be impressed, forget it.” Will shoved at Hannibal’s chest, found him unmovable, and when grinning, Hannibal shifted him in his arms and cradled him closer, Will whistled out a breath and looped his arms behind Hannibal’s neck. ‘’Hannibal, you must be careful, because I’m really starting to see a pattern here. And beside your full-blown fetish with my neck and scent, and your desire for me to hurt you, I consider it a bit much revelation for one night.’’ And then at the catch in Hannibal’s breath, the way Hannibal ran his tongue over his lips, Will’s own breath stuttered for a moment before he regained focus and said in an urgent whisper. ’’Of course, it's not that I have any problem with that or it’s not like I don’t enjoy when you… you know, you are doing that sound and thing with your amazing lips and dangerous teeth… But... But there’s something to be said for an element of – of mystery. “I—” He broke off and swallowed with an audible click from the obviously helpless shock of arousal at what he saw in Hannibal’s eyes.

Yes, Bedelia thought with a sigh. That was exactly what Hannibal did to you amongst all the wicked things. Made you instinctively aware of yourself on a purely physical level. It was like pheromones, Bedelia supposed. The scent of power and sex.

Hannibal just eyed the man in his arms, his gaze all intense and hungry and hot, then clearly delighted, it changed into amused and tender and smug, and since his arms were full with around 160 ibs of male, he leaned down and brushed his nose at the corner of Will’s mouth. “Will, you’re stuttering.” He breathed against Will’s lips.

“I’m aware of that.”

“It’s a nice boost to the ego.” Hannibal commented, low and husky, and nipped at Will’s parted lips, just once, and in one long swipe licked up the moisture gathering at the corner of Will’s mouth before he lifted up his head.

He got another involuntary shudder in response. A small, needy noise. A slap against his bare shoulder. “Your ego doesn’t need any boosting.” Will blew out a heated breath, ‘’Don’t smile at me that way.”

“Sorry.” But Hannibal’s smile didn’t dim a bit.

Will huffed out another breath at that, but when Hannibal hauled him higher a bit, after a quick internal debate, he gave up, and linked his fingers behind Hannibal’s head. “I wish you’d stop that. I’m perfectly capable of walking on my own two legs.” He said grumpily, even as he leaned his head against Hannibal’s shoulder and pressed himself an inch closer into his chest. ‘’Anyway, why am I in your capable arms?’’

‘’The sheet is bloody.’’

‘’No kidding.’’ Will rolled his eyes into Hannibal’s chest.

Hannibal threw a look of disgust toward his bed, “I won’t have you on that bed.” He said with a frown.

Then even as Will muttered something about fussy, unbearable, narcistic cannibals into his neck, with long, powerful strides Hannibal carried him to the fire place and with care laid him down on the push carpet. When Will dragged his fingers apart from his neck, levering himself on one elbow, Hannibal traced the shape of Will’s face with a fingertip for a second, and something more than the flames from the fire was kindling in his eyes when he said.

’’Besides, I always wanted you before the fire, back in Baltimore.’’

That’s said, he moved away from Will and leapt up to his feet. He turned to the fireplace and picking up the two heavy crystal candlesticks on the mantel he arranged them to his liking, then took a box of wooden matches from the mantel and enlightened the candles. That’s done, he crossed the room to fetch a clean bedcover and a pillow. Returning to Wills side, he knelt beside Will on the carpet, and ignoring Will’s huffs and puffs, he slowly turned him to his side and spread out the bedcover under him then repeated it from the other side. When Will moved as though to begin sitting up, Hannibal immediately leaned forward, placing one large hand on his chest to push him gently back onto his back.

“We must be careful,” Hannibal said, and despite the serious tone of his voice, a smile tugged at his lips when Will mumbled something under his breath again, about overprotective, overbearing, overreacting, possessive, sadistic serial killers.

“You’ll be fine so long as I keep my weight off your body and you don’t make any vigorous move.” Hannibal knelt behind Will, obviously trying to hide the humour dancing in his eyes about Will’s grumpy face and grudging tone. He braced one arm behind Will’s back to support his head and neck, while with the other he placed the pillow under Will’s head, and fussed with it much longer than it was strictly necessary.

"Hannibal, I’m not fragile," Will grunted out between his teeth, managing to make it sound like the most terrible thing in the world. ‘’Stop fretting, you’re worse than a bloody mother hen. “ His hand reached up and tried to slap away Hannibal’s hands without turning his head.

Hannibal sit up straight and folded his hands in his lap as if he was just about to give a therapy session to a particularly stubborn patient. ‘’While I wholeheartedly have to agree with you that you're indeed a force to be reckoned with,’’ Hannibal allowed magnanimously, ’’as well as stubborn as a mule and reckless as a bull, might I add. But still, I feel like we should—’’ Hannibal began then let out a resigned breath at the razor-edged look Will shot up at him. “Maybe shouldn't. ‘’

When Will sent him another narrowed eyed look, Hannibal exhaled, loud and resolved. "Will, you really should stop doing that so much." He raised a hand and stroked the skin between Will’s eyes where it was scrunched up with Will’s glare, ‘’It's a genuine fear that I have, that your eyebrows are going to stay this way. ‘’ Hannibal said, sounding genuinely worried and pained at the prospect.

 _‘’Hannibal,’’_ Will hissed out.

And Hannibal must have caught the tone, and then, with a quick glance, the martial look in Will’s eyes. Obviously even he knew the value of retreat because he held up his hands and promptly sat back on his hunches besides Will’s shoulders, then lifted Will’s hand and nibbled on his fingers.

The flicker of annoyance in Will’s gaze quickly turned into arousal. Then Hannibal’s smug smile had Will reaching up to cup a hand behind his head and nudge him down.

“Will.”

“Just shut up.” To make sure it happened, Will brushed his lips against Hannibal’s.

...........

Hannibal’s mouth was ready for Will’s, and it opened beautifully under the pressure of lips and tongue, before the corner of his mouth quirked up. "Well, all right then," He panted into Will’s mouth and then pounced.

Grabbing Wills face in his hands, he brought their lips together in a flurry of sharp, nibbling teeth, sliding, sucking lips, smiling mouths, curling tongues, roaming fingers, messy hairs and muffled moans. 

Then Will moaned, throaty and deep and fisted his hands in Hannibal’s hair, gripping his head and pulling him even closer with jerky, desperate movements. And then they were half embracing, half grappling, mouths opening and tongues tangling, both of them gasping for air between rough, wet, hungry kisses.

One kiss. Then another. Then another. Bedelia felt like they kissed forever, before Hannibal pulled back enough to gasp against Will's mouth in a horse, thick voice. “I need—” He dragged in a breath, “Need to see you.” Then his lips rushed down over the line of Will’s throat.

“Yes. _God, yes_ , just, _do it_ , just-” Will’s breath caught on two indrawn gasps when Hannibal worked open the first two buttons on his shirt and the moment he tugged it aside to expose the tender flesh beneath, he pressed his lips to the deep, white pock of scar tissue of a long-healed bullet wound on Will’s left shoulder.

The sharp nip of Hannibal’s teeth made Will to hunch his shoulder in startled pleasure, and then he just kept making low, breathless noises when Hannibal laved his tongue over his scar then sucked small kisses around the damaged skin while he finished working the buttons of Will’s shirt open with nimble fingers.

“You have beautiful shoulders.” Hannibal murmured as he brushed his mouth over the curve of Will’s left shoulder and then nipped lightly at his collarbone. ’’They should be carved in marble with all the scars shoving your greatness.’’

His lips curved again at Will’s quick inhale of breath, and his eyes were focused keenly on Will’s face as he stroked his shirt down his shoulders. As soon as it was off, he traced his mouth along the edges of the bandage on Will’s right shoulder before he crawled back to the end of the carpet and with a nudge to Will’s knees, made him to open his legs.

Bracketing Hannibal’s waist Will drew his legs up and Hannibal sat on his heels between Will’s legs then he leaned forward just enough to be able to reach around Will’s shoulder blades with one hand and lift his torso up. His fingers were impossibly gentle as they slipped Will’s shirt over and down his arms and then he tossed it aside. Then sitting back on his heels, he traced his fingers, feather-light along the long, thread-thin line of puckered scar on Will’s abdominal, just above the jut of a hip bone.

Will breathed out a shuttered sigh, belly pulling back under Hannibal’s hand, then he shivered and bit down on his lower lip when Hannibal leaned forward and brushed his lips over the damaged skin tissue, slow and incredibly soft, then done it again with his tongue. licking over the raised skin in a long swipe, with the tip of his tongue. Will let out another shaky little sight and reached for the button on his trouser. But before he could even touch it, Hannibal’s hand was on his.

“Let me.” Eyes fired up like torches with want, Hannibal murmured in a rough voice as his hands closed over Will’s.

This time Will didn’t resist, in fact, he didn’t even give a sound as he lifted away his hands. But he shivered at what he saw in the other man’s eyes, and at the light, brushing touches of Hannibal’s fingers as he slowly worked open Will’s button and slid down his zipper. 

His breath suddenly coming quick, a wild, fresh desire bolted back into Hannibal’s fathomless, dark eyes. He swallowed audibly while with slightly trembling hands he slowly pulled Will’s pants all the way off then threw them away, making Will as naked as he was born, revealing all off his hidden beauty.

And Bedelia found herself as breathless as Hannibal himself, a strange mingling of lust and annoyance as her eyes slid over the subject of Hannibal’s one and only, ultimate desire.

Though the jealousy and hurt remained, poised and trembling, she couldn’t deny, that Will Graham was really a sight to behold. His surprisingly toned, muscled body shifted slightly and his skin slowly flushed with arousal, lips parting, darkened blue pupils blew wide at the singeing look in Hannibal’s eyes.

“You’re the most terrifyingly beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Hannibal whispered, voice raw and thick as he sat back on his hunches and those fathomless dark eyes moved over Will’s exposed body with blatant, worshipping admiration.

His gaze swept slowly up and down from Will’s hair to his feet while the candlelight casted a warm, dim glow over Will’s skin. He paused a moment to look at Will’s face, then it slid down and lingered on the stone hard, thick shaft that rose from the brush of dark brown hair between Will’s spread tights.

But he didn’t touch Will, not yet, though the hunger in his eyes was a living thing that was about to leap out and devour Will in whole in any second.

And by the look in his eyes Will was going to let it. And he was going to love it. Bedelia saw that sky-blue gaze darken with the storm Hannibal set off inside him. And she felt it quake inside her too, making her breath catch in her throat again.

“Touch me.” Will’s words were raw and urgent. “I want your hands on me.”  
  
And because the man had an enviably immense powerful self-control, ruthlessly controlling the wild need that was so obliviously trashing in Hannibal’s eyes to taste, to possess, he slowly leaned forward.

He watched Will’s face, the flicker of light and shadow over it from the fire as his hands, his strong, elegant, clever hands skimmed up, from ankle to knee. He stroked his hands up Will's thighs, tracing his thumbs over the strong curves of muscle. His fingers curled along Will's hips. He splayed his fingers, pressing into Will's skin a little as he dragged them over the muscled stomach that quivered under his touch before he skimmed the tips of his fingers again under the edge and over the scar on Will’s lower abdominal. He cupped Will's face, then slid his hand down to his neck. He palmed the hollow of Will's throat and Will shivered, his pulse beat visibly hard beneath Hannibal’s fingers before Hannibal slid them across the apple of Will's shoulders and down his chest. His thumbs slid over the tiny peaks of Will’s nipples causing a hitch in Will’s breath as they hardened beneath his touch before he ran his hands down Will’s flanks and heaving sides, scratching slightly with his nails, making Will shiver and his eyes flutter closed with a moan.

Just so that in the next second they snap open again when Hannibal rubbed his thumb over the slit of his cock, gathering the drops of precum. Then Hannibal looked down, met Will’s eyes and held that look as he brought his finger to his lips then licked Will’s taste off his fingers.

Will trembled, “Oh, God,” he took a deep breath, then his throat made an even deeper gulp, ’’You are going to be the death of me, Hannibal,” he panted. 

‘’I sincerely hope so,’’ Hannibal’s tongue slid over his lips and he made a deep, satisfied groan then he surged forward and slotted their mouths together, all teeth and tongue in a filthy kiss. Braced above Will on one strong arm, he finally wrapped his fingers around Will’s hard flesh, and bucking up on instict, Will moaned low and greedy and loud.

“Mine,” Hannibal almost growled, his voice rough as he bit and sucked in Will’s lower lip, catching the broken-off sound of agreement in his mouth. ’’You are mine Will.’’ He raised his head, eyes blazing as he locked it on Will’s face. ’’Say it.’’ He twisted his hand around Will’s rigid length, his smile was slow and sly when Will’s hips surged sharply upward again. “Will, open your eyes and say it.’’

When he opened his eyes, Will’s eyes were heavy and glassy from the pleasure Hannibal brought to him as he dragged them upward to meet Hannibal’s. “ _Yes._ ” Oh, _fuck_. Yes.’’ His hips stuttered again and he gasped when Hannibal teased his thumb over the slick head of his erection again.

  
Hannibal’s gaze stayed fixed on Will’s face, ’’You should see yourself, Will, how beautiful you look.’’ His words emerged throatily, those dark, hungry eyes watching, measuring without a blink, as he skimmed a finger along the long wein of Will’s lengths, torturingly slow, then he curled his hand around the hard shape of Will, trailing his fingers up and down the length, stroking slowly once, twice. Will moaned and arched up into it, desperate for more, for anything.

There was a wicked glint in Hannibal’s eyes as they lighted up with purpose, reminding Bedelia that, oh yes, the man was a sadist.

He stroked Will a little harder, a little faster, and Will sighed in relief, his belly shifting against Hannibal’s hand, breathing choppy as he tried to push himself through Hannibal’s fist, tried for control, for leverage, for _something_ but Hannibal wouldn’t give it. And there was a gasp, a small, needy noise when Hannibal gave him just one more, delicate up and down stroke, his hand just a flicker of a touch around Will’s cock then stopped his hand altogether. 

Will made a pissed off noise and reached down with one hand to grip Hannibal’s thigh, hard, trying to pull him closer, but when Hannibal didn’t move, he dragged his eyes open, “Hannibal,” he gasped, wretched and a bit warning. "You are a bloody tease, that’s what you are.’’ His eyes scanned Hannibal’s face, taking in the contrast between the almost wild urgency in Hannibal’s eyes and the deliberate, torturingly slow movements of his hand, and he managed a heartfelt, “ _Oh, fuck_ ,” as he recognized Hannibal’s resolve.

There was an amused twitch to Hannibal’s mouth. “Oh, would you like that?” he asked velvet-voiced, ’’Because, I’m more than willing to do that,’’ his palm slid up Will’s leg, guiding his thighs further apart, ‘’But not tonight.’’Then there was nothing remotely light-hearted in his eyes as he stared down at Will, in fact, his eyes were simmering with something dangerously wild and possessive. ’’If from now on, anybody else touches you anywhere near like this,’’ his hand dipped back between Will’s legs to press the heel of his palm against Will’s lenghts, making Will to grip his wrist and grind up into the rub himself againt that wicked palm, ’’except me, it’ll get bloody when I break and cut them into—”  
  
“Oh, of all the ridiculous, outrageous, possessive—”  
  
“And cut off their—”  
  
“Stop that.” Will blew out a heated, slightly recoiled breath though his hips pressed up to mould his cock into Hannibal’s palm and his hands seized hold of the back of Hannibal’s neck. “I can agree to that, as long as you give me the same courtesy. That suits you?”

’’Oh Will, you need not fear that. I wanted you so long and so much,’’ Hannibal answered, low and husky and _wrecked,_ then he lowered his head so he could murmur into Will’s ear, ‘’I could hardly think of anything else but you. You were all that existed in my mind even…’’ his breath and tongue brushed against Will’s ear, and Bedelia found herself stunned at hearing the words that came out of Hannibal’s mouth, ’’when I was involved with others and they begged for my cock,’’ he nipped on the shell of Will’s ear and Will heaved in a huge breath of air, ‘’even when I fucked them hard and hot, it was you I was thinking off.’’

“Oh _God_ , ” Will drew in a shuddering breath and twined a leg over Hannibal’s hip. His fingers clawed at Hannibal’s shoulder when Hannibal’s teeth scrapped along the side of his neck in greedy, possessive bites and licks. And the taste of salty sweat on Will’s skin seemed to bewitch Hannibal and finally broke that frighteningly strong iron control. 

In the next second all of that bloody-minded determination, craving and possessiveness was suddenly on Will as Hannibal fell into some kind of fevered drive in a wild frenzy of hands and teeth. 

And Bedelia couldn’t help the helpless jolt of arousal, with a fair amount of stunned thrown in.

Will was gasping for air, hips helplessly pushing up when Hannibal’s fingers curled tighter around him, suddenly speeding up his hand, stroking him fast and ruthless. One of his hand clutched at Hannibal’s hips while the other was fumbling in Hannibal’s hair, over his shoulders as his head fell further to the side, neck arching deliciously to offer Hannibal whatever he chose to take when Hannibal set his hungry mouth to work.

His breath came in low, throaty moans so erotic Bedelia knew she would hear them again in her sleep, as his teeth nipped into Will’s skin, just short of savage, just short of pain.

Shocked, Will arched his back and grabbed a tight fistful of Hannibal’s hair as Hannibal sank his teeth into his skin, biting kisses all over his chest before he closed his mouth over Will’s nipple, giving it a hot, wet suck that drew a loud moan from Will’s throat.

Bedelia saw the wild pulsing of Will’s heartbeats on the strong vein of his neck while Hannibal lips trailed over his chest. Saw the bunching and quivering of his muscles as Hannibal’s tongue and lips and teeth drove him out of his mind. Heard the quickening of his breathing.

And she heard the sound of her own thickening breath as with a sense memory she could almost feel the wonder and pleasure Will felt in every pore, in every nerve, with every breathless gasp. Beside them, the fire shot hissing embers, and Bedelia felt the flames uncontrollably leaping and burning inside her too.

Will was pulling desperately at Hannibal’s pants and he cursed when his fingers fumbled on his button. "Come on, get this off," Will’s voice was urgent and rough as he nudged at the front of Hannibal’s pants.

Those hungry mouth never faltered off Will’s skin as Hannibal shifted up his hips, he never stopped stroking Will, when with a flick of his wrist he opened the button with one hand, peeled down the zipper and in a blink of an eye he stripped out of his pants and underwear, and with no care for their expensive elegance, he tossed them aside like rags, his turbulent gaze intent on Will. And Christ, though Bedelia saw him plenty of times, the sight of that fully naked, tall, strong, powerful body, that beautiful, rock hard cock that strained toward Hannibal’s stomach- Oh Hell, but she wanted. 

And obviously, she wasn’t the only one.

“I knew you’d look like this,” Will said low and loose and thick. “Oh, God I just knew it.” His eyes were almost black now with want as they eat up the picture Hannibal presented with utmost approval. Then his eyes found the patch on Hannibal’s leg and he scowled a little, there was a soft, concerned expression on his before he tilted his head, one eyebrow quirked as he said. "Jack did a number on you, didn’t he?’’

Hannibal’s smile was slow and confident as he lifted his head and lips just enough from the deep crescents of Will’s lower ribs to lock his eyes with Will’s. ‘’Yes."

The corner of Will’s mouth curved into a smile. ’’Attaboy.’’ Then he split a frown between the injuries on Hannibal’s face and his leg again, "You didn’t fight him back.’’ Questions not even asked, he declared. And when pleased Hannibal smiled and simply nodded his head a little in agreement, Will’s hand immediately fumbled out for him.

’’Come back here!” Will husked. He tilted his hips up, feet braced flat on the carpet, inviting, as he reached for Hannibal with heavy arms. His hands sneaked up to curl round the other man’s shoulders, trying to tug him up.

’’Will,’ Hannibal said, his voice thick. Then he opened the clenched fist that was still gripping Will’s arousal and lunged forward.

He braced both arms beside Will’s head, palms cupping the back of his neck as he dropped down to cover Will’s body with his own.

“Yes,’’ Will gasped , “ _oh yes_ ,” and their eyes locked, and none of them could hold back the full body shudder nor the shaky groan that flew out simultaneously both of their mouths when their bodies, skin on skin aligned for the first time.

One of his leg wrapping around Hannibal’s hips, drawing him closer, further, Will moaned, long and low, ‘’ Oh, but you feel good,” he all but purred when their arousal brushed against eachother.

’’I imagined this quite often," Will admitted, his voice a soft burr. "How you would look, how you would feel over me, your skin against my skin." He bit the corner of Hannibal's jaw. ‘’You were constantly in my dreams, under my skin. Even after everything you did, I still – still wanted you – God, Hannibal, I missed you so much."

Sucking in a breath at that admission Hannibal murmured Will’s name then Will was kissed within an inch of his life before Hannibal pulled back and rested his forehead against Will's for a second. Then he rolled his hips, grinding himself against Will while at the same time he bit a kiss into Will's neck, just below his ear. 

"Fuck," Will hissed. His hips bucked up, his hands slid up Hannibal's thighs to grab the swell of his ass, hitching Hannibal closer, his fingers digging into Hannibal's skin hard enough to bruise as he shifted a little, twisting, until their cocks aligned.

Hannibal moaned quietly; the sound huffed out against Will’s skin as he sucked another mark into Will's throat while he rolled down his hip, rubbing their cocks hard and hot against eachother.

Will made a low, desperate noise, then his hands were everywhere. Firm and smooth they never stopped moving, stroking over Hannibal’s hips and tights and legs, circling over the naked skin of his back, running them up over the straying muscles of his biceps, palming his shoulders, his outstretched fingers skimming up Hannibal’s spine, making Hannibal’s body shudder and roll under his fingers, causing quick, tiny breaths and low moans tearing out from Hannibal’s mouth.

They were exciting to watch as their bodies rocked together in a perfect match of each other rhythm like they’ve done this countless time before, that timeless moves of drag and thrust, the grinding circle of hips and dizzying friction of skin on skin. 

Bedelia could feel the blood humming under her skin and her mouth gone dry as her eyes kept moving over them. 

And Hannibal was beautiful _like this —_ his hips working, his thighs tensing, his firm, strong muscles rippling and shifting sinuously under Will’s hand, inviting him to linger, urging him to press harder, grip tighter. To take, and take, and take. 

A heat coursed through Bedelia painfully as she remembered how she’d used her own hands on that strong, wiry build, dangerous body, her fingers working Hannibal’s back, tensing his muscles, nails nipping into his flesh. Or how, she realized with a jolt, she wanted to use them now. Though her hands were tightly clutched into fist at her sides now, she could feel Hannibal on her fingertips. The texture of his skin and hair. With a sigh that caught in her throat, she also remembered the faint roughness of his chest hair as they teased her skin. The heavy weight of his hard, hot body. His scent, deliciously male, and dark and mysterios like the woods—full of secrets and hidden pleasures. The taste of that mouth feeding avidly on her’s was full of spice and heat. And God, Hannibal’s touches and lips on her skin.

Memories that were all the harder to bear for the remembered, exclusive pleasure it wringed from her body.

Well, Bedelia swallowed hard, it was just too damned bad that Hannibal was so irritatingly attractive, talented and perfect in bloody everything he ever touched. Life was easier sometimes when you didn’t know what you were missing, Bedelia concluded with another deep sigh.

’’Will, my beautiful Will, ’’ Hannibal murmured against Will’s skin, his erection riding against Will’s for a few thrusts before he sunk his teeth into Will’s throat again. ’’I can’t get enough of you.” Then he lifted his head and that lush, hot mouth opened over Will’s with unmistakable intent as he leaned down for another kiss.

It was deep and slow and thorough, and Will trembled and gasped into Hannibal’s mouth, his hands wringing at Hannibal's waist as Hannibal 's teeth caught the well of his lip, while Hannibal moved his hips slowly enough to drive them both out of their minds.

’’I don’t even know why I want this so much,” Hannibal gasped against Will’s mouth when he released his lips. “I’ve had plenty of lovers but I’ve never— I don’t even think it’s the physical thing I want so much as—”

“As what?” Will’s lips grazed Hannibal’s as he spoke, and just that brief, brushing caress seemed to be enough to make Hannibal groan and press their mouths together again for another hungry, filthy kiss. And whatever he was about to say was purely lost, a half-formed thought that fell away as their kiss deepened again and his hand have travelled down Will’s heaving sides, the curve of his arching hip, the strong lines of his thigh, then grabbed Will’s hips and tugged him closer as he rolled his hips again. Biting and sucking Will’s lips between his teeth, he caught Will’s broken-off moans in his mouth until both of them was gasping for breath by the time he finally lifted his head.

“Will, what you do to me—”Hannibal gasped, his breathing ragged and harsh. His fingers curled around Will’s jaw to keep him in place as he brushed Will’s wet, swollen lips with a pad of his thumb. “I just really need to taste you.” And then he slid down over Will’s body.  
  


He slid his wet, open mouth over Will’s sternum, licked at his nipples with the tip of his tongue, then brushed his lips over it before he grazed them with his teeth. He outlined the deep crescents of Will’s lower ribs with his mouth then dragged it down to suck bruises all over the skin of Will’s quivering belly before he came to a halt to press lingering kisses to the scar on Will’s stomach again. He dipped his tongue into the shallow indentation of Will’s navel. Each kiss saying, _you are mine,_ making Will to catch his breath on quick, sharp inhales, his fingernails digging into Hannibal's shoulder. 

Then Hannibal moved farther down, his hot, wet kisses followed the line of Will’s hipbone to the deep furrow between thigh and groin. Shifting position, he gently pushed Will’s thighs apart, settling himself into the space he made, his big body moving with grace.

Will moaned shameless and low when Hannibal bit a kiss into the tender skin of his inner thigh then sucked a bruise there, up high enough that his nose was hidden in the crease of Will’s hip. Then Will grew restless, shifting, his hips bucking up in frustration as Hannibal continued his deliberately languid, maddening journey of tasting every inch of his skin until he came to the thatch of dark hair at Will’s groin.

The hard, rigid flesh of Will’s cock was throbbing now, the blunt, reddened tip wiping for attention, butting at the side of Hannibal’s cheek. But rather than taste it, Hannibal rubbed his cheek against the hard line of Will’s arousal and burrowing his nose into Will’s crotch, inhaled him deep.

The dark, throaty groan that tore out of Hannibal’s throat was so deep, so guttural like it was punched out of his chest. He pressed his lips right at the base of Will’s hot flesh, licked a hot stripe up the length until his tongue curled around the head, then swallowed it down to the root in one go.

“Hannibal—” Will cried out, his fingers grabbing Hannibal’s hair, his hips helplessly bucking forward. "You — oh, _God, your mouth._ " Will moaned, his free hand clutching Hannibal's shoulder, his nails biting into his skin. His thighs shook as he chased that wet heat, those soft, lush lips that stretched around his cock, and that wicked tongue that swirled along his lengths with filthy and slick noises, as Hannibal hollowed his cheeks and just sucked him in and in and in.

By this point the arousal was a livid, hot, thrumming beat under Bedelia’s skin. God, she knew very well the luscious pull of those lips. The sinuous twining of that hot, talented tongue. So, she wasn’t even surprised when Hannibal did something with his tongue that made Will’s whole body whipping upward like a pulled cord. Because of course, Hannibal played Will’s body as well as he played his beloved harpsichord. 

Hannibal shuddered and gasped out a rough, dark noise around Will's cock when Will’s hips thrusted sharply up and his cock must’ve bumped the back of Hannibal’s throat. He drew back slightly, his lips drawing up over the lengths, his tongue teasingly flicking around the head before he laved it along the slit again. Then he opened his eyes and dragged them upward to seek Will’s as he reached down to wrap his hand around his own hardness that was _throbbing like a second heartbeat now,_ and then their eyes locked.

"Hannibal — _Jesus_." Will moaned shattered, a red flush high on his cheekbones and his chest, his eyes were hopelessly dilated as he was biting madly at his lips at the sight of it. "Fuck."

Hannibal’s eyes stayed on Will’s, his name only a murmur on Hannibal’s lips as he started to stroke himself, easy and slow. He hummed out a pleased, satisfied noise as he rolled his tongue over the head of Will’s cock then gave it the flat of his tongue before he sucked it back into his mouth.

Will’s hips snapped up again, causing a flutter-catch in Hannibal’s throat. He curled his fingers into Hannibal's hair and ran his other hand up Hannibal’s jaw and over his cheek, tracing the stretch of Hannibal's lips with his fingertips, and Hannibal tipped his head a little, letting Will feel the shape of himself through his cheek. Will’s fingers brushed through Hannibal's hair, but before he could slide it away, Hannibal grabbed his hand and pushed it to his head. He held it there as he swallowed hard around Will’s cock, so Will knew he didn't mind. So, he knew how much Hannibal liked and wanted it there Then he hollowed his cheeks again and bobbed his head to meet Will's jerky, shallow thrusts, his hand moving quick and hard over his own cock now. 

Not unexpectedly, Will was crazed and twitching within a minute, biting his lips until they were bleeding, his thighs wrapped around Hannibal’s head, his heels digging into Hannibal’s lower back, his body was nothing but sweaty flesh over sparking nerves as Hannibal turned him inside out.  
  
Because all that bloody control didn’t just evaporate, Hannibal sucked Will like there was no tomorrow, deep and restless, rhythmic and perfect, his throat fluttering every time Will thrusted up too deep. And when he unclenched his hand from Will’s fingers that were still grabbing his head and ran his thumb over Will's hole — no pressure, just a tease, — back bowing, thighs trembling, Will cried out a choked off, ’’Oh, God,’’ then his voice broke utterly down around Hannibal’s name, ’’Hannibal, I-” his hands clutched Hannibal’s hair and his toes curled over Hannibal’s skin as his orgasm was ripped out of him by Hannibal’s mouth and tongue and teeth.

Needless to say, his strong throat muscles working, Hannibal was swallowing every drop of Will’s spend. And because apparently his name choked out by Will’s voice was his kryptonite, the head of his cock slipping through his fist in a blur now, his gaze fixed on Will’s face while his tongue still chased Will’s taste, a mere moments later Hannibal’s whole body tensed, his hips stuttered and he was coming, shuddering, gasping Will’s name around Will’s cock as he pulsed and coated his hands with his come.

After licking Will clean, Hannibal finally released Will’s spent cock from his mouth and slumped his head against Will’s leg, shuddering through the aftershocks for long, silent seconds, wave after wave after wave while Will was still gasping for breath above him.

And it took Hannibal a remarkably long time to catch his breath. Panting loudly, he closed his eyes and hid his flushed face against the inside of Will's thighs while he rubbed his spend over Will’s stomach.

“Seriously?’’ Will glared at Hanibal, but if anything it was more of a come-hither look than an actual glare, while his fingers wind their way into Habbibal’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. ‘’Why am I not even surprised, you possessive devil.’’ He grumbled resolutely out.

Pleased and smug like Hell, Hannibal only smiled, like Will just told him he was the most brilliant thing in the world. Then he pressed his delight into Will’s skin by lavishing the inside of Will’s tights with wet, open-mouthed kisses, before quick as lighting, he moved up Will’s body. He slid his arms under Will's shoulder blades and leaned down to catch Will’s lips in a soft, slow, sated kiss, drawing out the simple meeting of lips.

There was no clash and fury now, no desperation, no vicious drive to mate, to possess. Now there were only slow, sipping tastes, soft, gentle caresses, the quiet hiss of flame on wood, the scent of their skin and needs finally sated.

Will crossed his arms over Hannibal’s back, his hands stroking Hannibal’s skin as he broke the kiss and nosed along the line of Hannibal’s face.

“Will.”

“Hmm?”

Hannibal sighed as he gathered Will closer. He buried his face in Will’s neck and pressed his lips to Will' collarbone. “As much I wish I could stay with you like this forever,” he murmured into Will’s skin, ’’I’m afraid we have to move, before Mason’s men find us.’’

"Yeah, okay.’’ Will said, but his head nestled into Hannibal’s shoulder, and his arms strayed around Hannibal’s body. "Okay." He dragged a wet, open kiss over the strong curve of Hannibal's shoulder.

"Will, please." Hannibal sighed again, but instead of moving away, he tipped his head to the side as Will nosed along the line of his neck. "We really have to go.’’ He caught Will’s hair in his hand, drew back his head, looked down into Will’s face, then crushed his mouth desperately over Will’s again.

A minute, then another.

"Hey, if you want me to stop, that ain't the way to do it." Will gasped breathless when Hannibal released the well of his lips from between his teeth.

Hannibal’s smile was fond and incredibly tender as he rested his forehead against Will’s for a second, then agile as a trick pony, he jumped to his feet and lunging down he slid one arm round Will’s shoulder and the other under his knees, then he swung Will up from the carpet before Will could even open his mouth to protest and straightened himself all in one movement.

Will spit out a curse, but unbothered, Hannibal just shifted his weight to balance himself and nudging Will’s head to the side with his forehead, he nipped down the line of Will’s jaw. ‘’Now, now Will, while I know manners weren't ever exactly your strong point, I don’t think there is a reason for you to result to rudeness.’’ At Will’s loud grunt of bewilderment, a small curve appeared at the corner of Hannibal’s luscious mouth before his lips slid over the side of Will’s face in a teasing, subduing sort of way. ‘’Or for you to simmer and spew like some fire-breathing Amazon.” He murmured into Will’s skin. Then ignoring the loud, wavering growl in Will’s throat, if anything, Hannibal looked absolutely enthralled as he watched Will’s face while he quickly carried him toward the bathroom.

“I honestly can’t decide if I want to punch or kiss that stupid smug smile off your stupidly handsome face.’’ Will grudged out, fingers digging into the back Hannibal's neck .

“Well, under different circumctanses both options could be the beginning of a very promising and pleasurable evening. So, you do find me handsome—’’

Was the last thing Bedelia heard in Hannibal’s playful voice before he shut the door with his foot, then there was only the sound of water running for a minute.

.............

She should really go, was the first thought that shout through Bedelia’s skull when she finally pulled her mind out from the deep pool of arousal and haze, she found herself drowning in for the last hour or so. She’s just moved to walk back to her room when the door to the bathroom opened and closed behind Hannibal, who had a bathrobe over his body now. Hannibal, who slowly lifted his head and stared Bedelia dead in the eye.

Even through the cold dread that froze every drop of blood in Bedelia’s body— and made her step backwards as Hannibal stepped forward, eyes capturing hers, alowing no escape— Bedelia was stunned to watch tenderness metamorphize into pure violence in a split second, now that Will wasn’t around.

There was no residual of the gentle, adoring, lovestruck man. All traces of the warm, caring, playful lover were now gone. Not even a hint of the languid, sated, purring beast. There was a face hardened into stone. Lips fixed into a cold, hard line. Those dark, fathomless eyes weren’t molten now with soft emotions, they weren’t smiling now, weren’t gently amused. There was an edge in them now, dark, freezing and potentially deadly as they kept locked with Bedelia’s.

There was a monster. The ultimate, perfect predator stalking his prey, Bedelia thought, as that lean body tensed like it was about to spring. Then every nerve ending in Bedelia went numb with fear when swift like a thought, with quick, indominable steps Hannibal stormed through the room and he was suddenly before her, within an arm reach.

Hannibal quietly closed the door behind himself with one of his hand and with the other touched her arm. There was a lengthy silence when Hannibal just watched her face with a small smile curving the corners of his lips, yet Bedelia felt the blade of it cutting into her deeper than any of Hannibal’s sharpest knifes.

’’Did you have a good time, Bedelia?’’

Hannibal asked in a pleasant voice, the quiet calm and softness of his words making them all the more imposing and dangerous.  
Bedelia’s heart did a long cartwheel in her chest from that impassive, uncomfortably penetrating, intense gaze as it slid over her face. Her throat was so tight, she was yet to find the ability to speak, so all she could do was to nod in agreement.

Hannibal's lips curved at one side, confident and sly, and Bedelia found herself in the irritatingly mixed state of desire– just like Will said before, she recounted with a stunned, discussed shock at herself– for scratching or kissing it down. But neither of those impulses were something she couldn’t handle. And while it didn’t go away, it didn't get worse – not right until Hannibal leaned in and his hot breath fawned over Bedelia’s cheek and ear.

“Good. But if my memory serves me right, this one time, I can’t remember extending you the invitation to participate nor the offer to observe.’’

And Bedelia felt her senses getting annoyingly overstimulated and hyped on every exhales of air through those dangerous, destructive lips in a way they haven't before, or perhaps in a way she hasn't acknowledged before. Before, she thought she could have it whenever she wanted it.

Her traitorous beath stuttered in her chest again, when Hannibal’s lips, almost, pressed against her cheek. ‘’You’re an exceptionally bright and proficient woman, so I’m sure it does not come as a surprise to you, that the only reason you were allowed to observe tonight was, because for obvious reasons, I didn’t want to make Will more stressed or uncomfortable than he already was by alerting him of your presence.’’ And Bedelia felt the change, and felt her heart beat off-rhythm in response. ‘’And the only reason for you to be still sound and alive at this moment is, that I promised you a safe farewell after our mutually beneficial partnership here ended. At least for now. But...’’

Hannibal trailed off and because she knew there was more to come, ’’But,’’ Bedelia prompted, though she feared what it was.

’’But, dear Bedelia, as I’m sure you’re already aware, I have developed an entirely unexpected but for that an all the more extremely possessive streak when it comes to Will.’’

And now there was only ferocity in those fathomless, dark eyes, alive and restless. Vital and fierce enough to steal Bedelia’s breath and make her stomach muscles quiver when she pulled her head back to meet that deadly intense gaze.

‘’So, I tell you this only once, but let it be a warning for the future; Nobody is to see Will like that, ever again, and lives to tell. In consensus to our bargain, I don’t care about what you’re going to tell or write about me in any form or spoken word, but… if I ever going to hear or read about Will or about what happened here tonight between him and I, my dearest Bedelia—’’ Hannibal’s tone was still light, almost playful, but every word dropped onto Bedelia’s chest like a block of stone, ’’This world would not be big enough for you to hide. And when I find you, as you know I will, the consequences will be dire to pay, for such easily avoidable mistakes.’’ Hannibal finished still in that deceptively soft, calm voice, but the slight tightening of his hands on Bedelia’s arm was telling her more of the nature of those consequiences than mere worlds ever could.

Her throat burned, and she felt like somebody was trampling on her chest. She curled her fingers and the sharp edge of her nails digging sharply into the crease of her palm helped her to regain her equilibrium.

She swallowed against the dry lump that closed up her throat.

Hannibal tilted his head with his habitual expression that he wore for most of their encounters, as well as in his interaction with others.

The one that consisted of cool amusement—one lifted brow, a faintly mocking curl to his lips, the occasional devilish glint of interest in those fathomless, cold, pitch dark eyes, and the rare, quick— as to blink-and-you-missed-it quick— show of emotions. And it was nearly worse than the least truthful emotion of violence he’d worn when he came out of the bathroom.

Her gaze averted from Hannibal’s face. She cleared her throat, once, twice until she found her voice again. ’’I wont, as long as you keep holding onto the part our deal.’’ She stated in a more shockingly steady, distant and calm tone than she was prepared for, considering the havoc, her emotions and mind was still wreaking in her insides.

Hannibal touched her chin gently to force her head up in order to once again, lock his unnervingly intense gaze with hers. “Don’t you fear Bedelia—’’ His lopsided smile turned into a flash of those white, dangerous teeth while his gaze pierced through Bedelia like blade. ’’I always, always keep my promises.’’ He emphasized, holding Bedelia’s gaze.

By the time she managed to open her mouth, Hannibal was once again inside his bedroom. And then he turned back and said in an offhand, almost fond way. ’’Have a safe jorney back to the USA, Bedelia.’’ Just when Will’s voice cut through the space.

’’Hannibal, since we’re in hurry, if you’re not coming in, I’m getting out.’’

And just from hearing Will’s voice Hannibal’s face lightened up like the sun came out for the first time after months of depressing dark. The small quirk of his lips grew into a face achinhgly broad, rare, wonderful smile that was reserved for Will Graham alone. Then he shook his head at himself and sighed under his breath when he almost tipped over his own legs in his haste, to get back to Will. ’’Honestly, the things I do for love.”

.


End file.
